Unconventional and Unlikely: Taipei Mayor Ko Wen-je

Dr. Ko Wen-je is not the original unlikely mayor of Taipei.

Mr. Kao Yu-shu was mayor of Taipei from 1954 to 1957, and then again from 1964 to 1972. Both times he ran as an independent against a candidate from the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT), which ruled Taiwan as a one-party authoritarian regime led by Generalissimo Chiang Kai-shek. (At the time, the city of Taipei was a local municipality where elections were allowed.)

His elections were the stuff of legends; the first time he ran, Chiang Kai-shek was reluctant to declare him the winner until the United States congratulated him on his victory. Kao said, “I was such a nobody, the KMT didn’t bother to rig the votes against me.” Well, his second run did involve vote counting mysteriously put on hold “due to technical difficulties,” but he still beat the KMT candidate by almost 6 percentage points.

His popularity in Taipei as an independent, non-KMT politician roused suspicion within the authoritarian one-party state to the point where after Kao’s election the central government designated Taipei a Special Municipality, which at the time meant the central government would appoint its mayor, killing mayoral elections in Taipei. Taipei’s mayorship became exclusively held by the KMT until elections were reinstituted in 1994, and the Democratic Progressive Party’s (DPP) Chen Shui-bian won in a three way race. After Chen stepped down in 1998, the KMT controlled Taipei again and it would be another 16 years before an independent candidate, Ko Wen-je, became mayor of Taipei.

Kao’s story has been told as a counter-argument to the commonly held notion that Taipei is a staunch KMT electoral stronghold; Kao was able to win a majority outright, a feat made more extraordinary when the KMT had absolute power nationally. Kao’s story has also been told as an example of a very early example of the struggle against the KMT and Chiang Kai-shek regime, a sort of “proto-opposition” that proved the electorate in Taiwan (in Taipei, at least) could root for an underdog and support an unconventional choice—as early as the 1950s.

Taipei’s voters made history again in 2014 when they picked Ko Wen-je, a doctor with no previous experience in professional politics, over the KMT candidate by more than 16 percentage points. The landslide can be explained by a number of factors, including the unpopularity of the KMT administration under President Ma Ying-jeou, the unlikeability of the KMT candidate Sean Lien the rather clueless son of former vice president Lien Chan, and the sudden political activation of a generation of Taiwan students and young people by the Sunflower Movement earlier that year. In addition, the DPP did not run a candidate in Taipei, tacitly endorsing Ko as the official anti-KMT candidate.

But Ko Wen-je’s own brand of unconventionality appealed to enough voters who wanted just that—someone new, fresh, and different from the “political establishment,” or as Ko himself puts it, a “non-politician.” This was attractive especially for younger voters who had not paid much attention to politics before 2014 and believe politicians are all dirty. More importantly, Ko might just be someone who could eke out a new middle ground within Taiwan’s bitter partisan environment.

Taiwan’s two major political camps are split along identity fault-lines. On one side there is the Blue camp that mostly consists of the KMT, the once-authoritarian party that still retain many of the formal and informal networks of influence and power, supported by an almost self-contained society that sees Taiwan as a historical and cultural part of China and Taiwan’s economic future in closer ties with the People’s Republic of China. On the other side there is the Green camp that mostly consists of the DPP, the coalition of old agitators of the dictatorship, supported by another almost self-contained society that sees Taiwan as having a distinct linguistic and anthropological identity aside from China and seeks to assert Taiwan as an independent state from the People’s Republic of China.

The political competition between the two camps has been intense, as they represent conflicting core beliefs in identity and the very nature of what Taiwan is. Both sides have accused each other of cronyism, distorting history, and trying to erase the other side’s identity. Elections are passionately contested and political debate ardently confrontational.

There has always been calls for some kind of middle ground to be reached, a consensus to be built, or a compromise to be negotiated between the two sides. That notion is supported by people who genuinely worry that the nation of Taiwan would be torn apart before it even had a chance to consolidate, as well as people who are suspicious of all politicians and people who are simply tired of it all. One of the earlier attempts was the Third Society Party in 2008 (in which this author was involved), and mayor Ko Wen-je is one of the latest iterations of this project.

In his tenure as mayor, Ko has certainly dished out some fresh ideas to differentiate himself from traditional politicians. He completed knocking down the highway overpasses that strangled Taipei’s old North Gate, allowing the historical building to become a proper landmark. He also instituted i-Voting, an online system for Taipei residents to vote on certain city policy matters. The World Universiade games held in Taipei was generally considered a successful international sporting event.

He has also rather successfully branded himself as a more hip and stylish political figure, with a one-day, 323 mile cross-country bike ride and a hip hop music video during his 2018 reelection campaign (let’s see how many other politicians can pull those off). Even in the aesthetics of his campaign graphics he has a younger, more urban image, vastly different from the traditional political ads in Taiwan.

His positioning contributed to his win (however narrow) last November, when he had both the KMT and DPP candidates challenging his mayoral seat.

But while Ko’s personality allows him to be unconventional, it also dooms his chance to forge a middle ground through a coalition of inclusion. He is known to “speak his mind” without regard to political correctness—sometimes seemingly without any filters at all. He is socially awkward, reported to be caused by a slight case of Asperger syndrome. And Ko holds himself in higher regard than everyone else—in other words, he thinks he’s smarter than everybody. A few of his notable quotations: “the Holocaust has been a opportunity for publicity for Israel;” ““For the [world’s] four Chinese-speaking regions — Taiwan, Singapore, Hong Kong, and mainland China — the longer the colonization, the more advanced a place is;” “Why the big deal over Chiang Kai-shek’s statute, just treated it like a piece of rock.” His “alternative” thinking may be witty for some, but acridly condescending to others.   

Ko’s biggest misadventure is speaking on Taiwan-China relations—in other words, the core difference in Taiwan’s identity politics. In 2014, Ko emerged as a DPP-endorsed candidate who said he was “dark green” and claimed his family as having suffered at the hands of the KMT during the 228 Massacre in 1947. But in 2015, he tried to invent a new term the “2015 Consensus” and claimed it should replace the “1992 Consensus,” and later his term “a close-knit family” (「兩岸一家親」) to describe Taiwan-China relations was widely debated in Taiwan. His actions indicated he was moving to the center in the direction of the KMT position, but left the DPP camp, especially staunch DPP supporters, feeling upset and betrayed.

The Green camp, including the DPP and also overseas Taiwanese organizations like the Taiwanese Association of America (TAA), was left to debate how it should treat Ko. More pragmatic and dovish people argued for more inclusion and magnanimity towards someone who does command a following, especially among young people. The more ideologically pure could not stomach the disrespect Ko has shown towards their core beliefs, nor could they trust someone whose positions had slid around so easily.

In Taipei, the DPP eventually decided to run its own candidate against Ko last year, and ahead of Ko’s trip to the United States next week, the TAA issued a statement on March 9 explaining why they will not be hosting events for Ko during his visit.

The TAA statement is significant for two reasons. First, the TAA welcomed Ko in 2014 when he was running for mayor the first time. When Ko came to Silicon Valley, this author emceed for the banquet that the local Taiwanese American Federation of Northern California (TAFNC) threw for him, which drew one of the largest crowds for visiting politicians from Taiwan. After just four years, however, the TAA decided nationwide to reverse its attitude.

Second, it is well known that the TAA is an anti-KMT organization; it was formed as a grassroots movement against the KMT’s one-party rule. It does not host events for KMT political figures, nor would they expect the TAA to host them in the first place. The TAA does not bother issuing statements explaining why it didn’t throw fundraisers for former president Ma Ying-jeou or Eric Chu, who were both in the United States recently. The fact that the TAA deemed the Ko Wen-je visit singular enough to warrant a public explanation of its decision shows that there was genuine controversy within the ranks with regards to Ko.

At the end of the day, the TAA decided to part ways with Ko. It is unfortunate that the TAA could not welcome Ko in a show of unity, but Ko’s personality and actions has made it understandably difficult. For Ko, rather than expanding his support base to include people on both sides of the identity question, he is not welcomed by either side.    

Ko Wen-je presents a paradox: his political stance puts in somewhere in the middle between the two extremes of political identity in Taiwan, yet his approach and personality leads him to dismiss both existing views as simply more primitive than his. Instead of approaching either camp with an attitude of inclusiveness and understanding, he ends up looking like an arrogant opportunist without principle, swinging from one side to the other for short term political gains.  

It is even more unfortunate, because as Taiwan’s chances survival depend ever more on solidarity in the face of Chinese aggression, the era of middle grounds have mostly passed us around the world. What is in vogue are not creative solutions or grand bargains, but all-ins and drawing clear lines in the sand. We see that in the United States, United Kingdom, Turkey, Hungary, and other places. China is switching from “biding one’s time” to aggressively erasing any room for ambiguity.

Building a middle ground takes a whole lot more than just averaging the difference between two opposing positions. Simply dishing out criticism to both sides in equal parts isn’t enough. Belittling long standing partisan views will not make them go away. Yes, Taiwan has a much better chance for survival united rather than divided, looking forward together rather than looking backward splintered. But while Ko’s unconventional style may earn him support from people tired of politics as usual, it ultimately makes him an unlikely leader for a new way forward.

(Feature photo by Gina Mao)